Imagine this: You’re stable on downwind, come abeam the numbers, and everything looks like it’s shaping up to be a normal, stable approach. Do you reach for the gear handle and put the legs down? Why?
So much of what we do as pilots isn’t in the flight manual, and often it’s not in any official FAA document. It’s simply habit. Twin Commander Instructor and Mentor Pilot Barry Lane labels this type of operation pilot technique. It’s not necessarily grounded in a safety related practice. Rather, he said we implement pilot technique for three reasons—it’s the way we’re taught, it’s something we’ve developed after some careful consideration, or it’s entirely random without any explanation.
Putting the gear down abeam the numbers is generally a good practice because there’s a mental tie-in. But what happens when you fly a straight-in visual pattern, or ATC asks you to keep your speed up? Any deviation from the norm brings an opportunity for the technique to fall apart. It’s why Lane teaches what he calls the belt and suspenders method. Putting the gear down abeam the numbers is the belt. Doing a final check on short final for three green lights is the suspenders.
Good pilot technique can keep us out of trouble, but occasionally it’s a misapplied holdover from another airplane or another type of operation. Lane gives the example of pilots who use the old, “tune, set, verify” for navigators. On a VOR that still works great. You tune the radio, set the navigator head, and verify the station identification. But without modification it’s a technique that doesn’t seem to carry well to GPS navigators. Lane sees pilots routinely set the course or approach and verify it’s the correct one, but then fail to flop the course deviation indicator to the localizer. Of all the pilots he’s seen use the “tune, set, verify” or “tune, identify, verify” reminder, only one has used it to properly set the CDI to the localizer.
It’s a great example of a decent technique that’s been misapplied. The GA world is a hodgepodge of different avionics, so many techniques don’t translate between airplanes. Some are always bad, such as the pilot who pulls out the Before Landing checklist after the final approach fix. Others seem to translate well across almost all airplanes. One operator Lane knows leaves the left chock until the very end, using it as a reminder to start a walkaround on that side looking for ground damage, and then ends there by pulling it before walking into the cockpit. It’s both a mental reminder to do the last-minute walkaround, and a way to never forget to pull the chocks.
This is where a good instructor comes in. Once a pilot is beyond the private pilot course, it’s not an instructor’s job to teach him how to fly again, but rather to guide the pilot toward better pilot techniques that hopefully lead to a safer operating environment.
Normally it’s only in training that pilot technique is ever examined. Maybe it’s during a pilot initial course in the airplane, recurrent training, or when flying with a mentor. Normally pilot initial training in the simulator is used to teach procedures, which is a far different set of skills. Lane puts those in the category of bedrock principles established by regulation, by the manufacturer, or in some cases by the pilot’s employer. Simulator training drills those procedures to ensure the pilot has a strong foundation upon which to grow. But pilot technique normally isn’t covered. That is normally taught in the airplane, or what airline pilots call a line check. This is when they learn to operate the airplane in the environment, and they learn all those little pilot technique habits that keep them operating smoothly and safely.
For owner-pilots it’s a less defined process, and Lane stresses that although training is a good place to work out the kinks, it’s far from the only time to do so. “Sit at home and think it through,” he said. “Without looking at the techniques critically we may be leaving ourselves exposed.” That’s good homework for a rainy day or a hangar couch session.
